A couple of hours later they found themselves back at the main garden gate. Andrew turned to look at the party still in full swing around them. “So, would you like to stay and circulate some more?” He looked down at Casey and smiled roguishly. “Or, would you like to go somewhere quiet and be alone with me?” He stepped closer to her and ran his hands down her bare arms.
Casey’s breath caught in her throat. “When you put it like that, how can I refuse?” She breathed. She lowered her lashes shyly. “Would you like to come to my place? I make a mean lasagne.” She tempted.
“That sounds great. Why don’t you go ahead? I’ll change into something a bit more comfortable.” He indicated his starched cotton pants and expensive silk shirt. “And I’ll meet you over there in about an hour. Wait a minute…” He disappeared into the house.
Reappearing moments later he handed her his cell phone. “Use this if you have any trouble. I’ve written Angela’s number on a piece of tape on the back.”
Casey laughed. “I guess I should start charging mine and keeping it with me. Thank you, that’s very thoughtful.” Casey raised herself on tiptoe and gave him a quick kiss. “Don’t be too long.” She suggested. Turning she left the garden through the gate and wound her way around the path to her car parked in the driveway.
The drive home went much faster than the drive to the party. Within 15 minutes she was walking into her apartment. The car hadn’t so much as pinged.
Tigger was at it again. She gave the cat an exasperated look and, after a ten-minute game of chase the cat, grabbed him and tossed him gently into the bedroom. With a smile of victory she returned to the living room. “And that’s where you are going to stay.” She yelled as the cat meowed piteously and scratched at the door.
Casey cleaned up the living room and kitchen as quickly as possible. She pulled already prepared lasagne from her freezer and put it into the microwave to thaw out. Feeling a little bit guilty about her claim to Andrew of making a mean lasagne, she buried the container deep in her garbage bin. Well, she didn’t completely lie; she was the one who was going to cook it. Setting the timer she went to get changed.
Ten minutes later, her bedroom straightened up and herself changed into jeans and a sleeveless t-shirt she returned to the kitchen to throw together a salad and popped the lasagne into the oven to brown.
Tigger had somehow managed to escape his prison and was hiding somewhere in the living room; she left him alone. As long as he was quiet and stayed hidden he was fine. He didn’t usually bother guests. She’d just have to hope he stayed true to form.
Half an hour later, the lasagne bubbled happily in the oven. The smell of browning cheese and spices filled the apartment; making Casey’s mouth water. She had just finished putting the finishing touches on her carefully laid dining room table and lit the candles when a knock at the door heralded Andrew’s arrival.